


Let's Get Personal

by eurydice72



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, bottom!Arthur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-13 00:52:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2130885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurydice72/pseuds/eurydice72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU. Nobody is more shocked than Merlin when Arthur places a personal ad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompt 121, "shocked," at Camelot Drabble.

The email from Morgana came with a link and three words.

_This is Arthur._

Merlin stared at the URL in shocked disbelief. It was a Craigslist ad. In the personals.

_In the m4m section._

Craning his neck, he peered over his cubicle walls to see if anyone was about to walk by and see that he wasn’t actually looking over the reports Gaius had sent his way if he clicked on the link. Because he was going to. He had to. He couldn’t resist. Just like Morgana had counted on, he was certain, but this was _Arthur_ , the man he’d craved for bloody years, the one who drove him absolutely barmy most of the time with his smug, know-it-all attitude but then would turn around at the most unexpected moment and do something so completely thoughtful you had to wonder if he was secretly possessed and could only break free of the spell when nobody was looking.

Arthur was the reason not a single one of Merlin’s relationships had worked since he’d taken the job at PenCorp. Because every last one of the guys Merlin brought into his life got sick and tired of hearing about Arthur every other breath. Gwaine suggested inviting Arthur for a threesome to get it out of Merlin’s system, while Will had silently fumed until he’d finally walked out. Lance turned into a homebody trying to get Merlin to spend more time in their flat rather than the office, while Percy ended up spending more time at the gym before finally giving up on him. The only good thing to come of his exes was that now Percy and Gwaine were together and seemed to be making a real go at it, but Merlin was left stuck in fantasies about Arthur’s perfect ass and that damn crooked tooth.

He’d nearly had a panic attack when he’d overheard Arthur discussing getting that bloody tooth fixed with Morgana one day. They were in the lift together, and Morgana had caught his eye as Arthur went on. She gave Merlin a little smirk, and then proceeded to explain to Arthur all the way to the ground floor why having dental work to fix an adorable imperfection was such a mistake.

Merlin sent her flowers in gratitude.

As far as he knew, she was the only one outside of his exes who saw his little crush, though thankfully, she said nothing to Arthur. They both knew it was pointless. Arthur was as straight as they came. 

_M4M_

Or maybe not.

Taking a deep breath to quell his shaking nerves, Merlin clicked on the link. The first thing he saw was the posting title.

_Curious looking for Curious – MUST BE DISCREET!!!_

All the exclamation points made him snort, a sound he quickly muffled by covering his hand over his mouth. Of course, Arthur wanted to be discreet. If Uther ever found out, there was no telling what he’d do.

But before Merlin could even think of reading the ad, he saw the picture that accompanied it. And promptly forgot about anything else.

It was an anonymous selfie of a shirtless man standing in front of a mirror in the loo with his jeans open to show his dick, just like thousands of others he’d ever seen on Craigslist or Grindr or Kik. Really, it could’ve been anyone, except Merlin had seen Arthur in the company gym, wiping off after a strenuous workout, and he would recognize that broad chest anywhere. The smattering of blond hair darker than what was on his head. The flat nipples. The slight swirl of a dragon tail tattoo disappearing around his side.

But it was the cock nestled in the palm of his hand that captured Merlin’s full attention. That, he hadn’t seen before. Arthur was only semi-hard and perhaps not the longest Merlin had ever seen, but what he lacked in length he more than made up in girth. The shaft was thick, the foreskin stretched to pull around the head and show off the glistening tip. It was a picture specifically designed to tease and torment, though Merlin would never have thought Arthur had it in him.

The text was even more enticing.

_Never done this before, but tired of wondering. I’m 28, single, fit, and bi-curious. Not looking for serious, just satisfying a few urges and some fun. Looking for bi or curious guy, 18-35, open to any race as long as you’re clean and safe. Chat first, and if we hit it off, meet up later to see where it goes. Professionally employed so discretion is a must._

The question of how Morgana had found this wasn’t nearly as intriguing as the thought of actually answering Arthur’s ad. He couldn’t, of course, because of the whole work complication, but nothing could stop him from right-clicking the picture to save for wanking to later tonight.

No sooner had he done that than another email from Morgana showed up. This one only had two words.

_Do it._

His fingers flew across the keyboard as he responded.

_I’m not what he’s looking for._

_It seems clear to me he’s not sure what he’s looking for, so how can that not be you?_

Merlin frowned at her response. Damn it. She made that sound reasonable.

In the time he sat there thinking about it, she emailed again.

_I won’t let him fire you if it doesn’t work out. Isn’t it time you stop pining?_

Except Arthur wanted no strings attached and Merlin wasn’t entirely certain he could do that. None of his exes would say so, either.

_If you don’t do it, I’ll do it for you._

That decided him. Because he one hundred percent believed Morgana would follow through on her threat.

_You win._

But as he clicked back to the ad and hit reply, he couldn’t help but hope he might end up winning, too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to keep at this. I can't say updates will be quick or often, because I have a ton of real life deadlines and responsibilities, but the possibility of this story wouldn't leave me alone.

His laptop stared at him from the center of his desk.

_Did you think I was just going to go away?_

Frankly, Arthur wished he’d stayed at the office to work late, but as soon as Morgana knocked on his door to ask if he was done for the day, he’d grabbed his coat and followed her out to the lift without a second glance back. The truth of the matter was, he’d been a ball of nerves all day, wondering how his ad looked, whether he came across as a poser, who would actually take the time and answer him back. The only thing to keep him from checking the email he’d created specifically for this was knowing it could get tracked as long as he remained on the company network. Not that anybody actually spied on the employees, but it was still possible. That tiny sliver of chance he could get caught out was more than enough to shackle him from looking.

But he was home now. In his flat. Alone.

With a computer that had never seen the inside of PenCorp and could therefore remain outside its domain.

Waiting for him to open it.

He couldn’t move a muscle.

This was ridiculous. He’d placed the ad to get over this debilitating uncertainty, once and for all. What was the point of all this if he couldn’t even read the responses? Yet, his stomach was in knots, and his palms might as well have been slicked up with lube for jerking off, as sweaty as they were. Reading those emails would confirm every suspicion he’d had about himself since he was fifteen and couldn’t stop staring at Morgana’s boyfriend every time he came over to the house. He’d never acted on his desires, but they’d been there, lurking in the background, getting him hard at the most inopportune moments. One time, when Vivian had put him off for over a month, he’d been sitting in a meeting with his father when Gaius interrupted to introduce his new assistant. Arthur had caught a whiff of the boy’s cologne when he passed by to shake Uther’s hand and spent the rest of the meeting with his tablet on his lap to hide his insistent erection. He hadn’t even risen when Merlin turned to shake his hand, too. All he’d done was give him a curt nod and then pretend to be busy with something on his phone.

Thank God Gaius spent more time in Morgana’s department than his. He only had to put up with Merlin when she insisted on including him. As good as Merlin smelled, he didn’t know how to shut up, prattling on and on about everything under the sun until Arthur thought his ears would start bleeding from the noise of it.

“How do you put up with that?” he complained to Morgana once.

She smiled. “What’re you talking about? Merlin’s lovely.” The pat on the cheek she gave him was pure condescension. “Maybe you just make him nervous.”

Arthur let it drop, but he avoided Merlin after that, as much to save his sanity from the incessant chatting as it was to preserve his dignity that he didn’t get hard again in front of him.

It worked. For the most part.

But the questions remained, that niggle in the back of his brain. Sometimes, after a workout, he’d steal glimpses of other men on their way to the showers, flashes of their bare asses flexing as they walked, a hint of their balls hanging between their legs. Without fail, those images crept into his dreams. He’d wake up breathing heavily from fleeting impressions of being on his knees, his lips salty-sweet from pre-come getting smeared across them, his mouth watering to get more.

In hindsight, the ad had been inevitable. How else was he going to know for sure? And it wasn’t like he wanted to date a guy. This was for sex, pure and simple.

Well. Perhaps not _that_ pure.

“Fuck it,” he muttered. In four long strides, he crossed the room and snapped his laptop open. A few keystrokes later, and his browser was up, the Gmail account he’d created waiting for him to enter the password.

He held his breath as he typed it in, then let it out in a whoosh when he saw the bold number in his inbox.

_211_

That couldn’t be right.

Could it?

He sorted by oldest first and clicked on the top message. His hopeful expectation crashed to the ground as the spam link jumped out at him. He deleted the message as fast as he’d opened it.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he muttered when the second proved to be spam, too. He’d thought the warnings he’d seen about spam in other messages had been the acts of men more paranoid than he was, but as it turned out, he was the idiot here. One by one, he went through the emails, quickly deleting those that were obviously junk, sorting the rest into another folder to read through when he was done.

At the end, he was left with sixty-seven to read and choose from.

Still. _Sixty-seven._ That was sixty-seven more possibilities than he’d had that morning. His spirits began to lift again.

The first three were obvious rejects. Straight into the bin. Number four attached a picture, but the focus was so blurry, Arthur couldn’t even tell for sure it was a man instead of a woman. That rather defeated the purpose, as far as he was concerned. Five through eleven came from married men in the closet who all assured him they understood the need for discretion.

Arthur trashed those, too. He had no interest in getting into the middle of an established relationship. He made a mental note to add that in case he had to pull the ad and rewrite it.

Number twelve stopped him dead in his tracks with the very first sentence.

_I am not what you are looking for._

“Then why the hell did you answer, you git?” He hovered the mouse over the trash button, ready to go on to the next, but his curiosity won out.

_I am not what you are looking for. For starters, I’m gay, and that’s not who you asked to reply. But see, the thing of it is, I had to write you anyway. If I didn’t, I’d always wonder “what if,” and frankly, life’s too short for that._

_I think you know that already. Otherwise, you would’ve gone on pretending you didn’t fantasize about the occasional bloke instead of taking that leap of faith and placing your ad. Guys like us deserve better than a what if world._

_If you’ve read this much, lucky me. Your pic was the hottest I’ve ever seen online. I’d attach one of me, but you didn’t ask for one, and besides, you want to chat first anyway, right? But on the off chance you do decide to give me a chance, I’m 29, white, professionally employed and know exactly what you mean about discretion. You’d never have to worry about that with me._

_As for sex, I’m versatile. All depends on the guy. Since this is new for you, we’d start off slow. Get you comfortable first. If you wanted a drink, I’d make it a small one, only because I want you completely aware of everything I did to you that first time. Wouldn’t want to miss out on all the details for wanking to after, now would you? Because you would. Wank, I mean. You won’t be able to resist. The memories of what I do to you—starting with stripping you out of your clothes, piece by piece, until you’re dripping in anticipation—are going to eat you alive until you think the only way to feel like you’re not going to burst out of your skin is to come._

_I can promise you that I’ll be reliving it afterward, too._

_If you’ve got Gmail, you can chat with me through this address. Otherwise, I hope that I’ve intrigued you enough to forget about the fact that I will know exactly what I’m doing if you choose to answer me back._

_Exactly._

Arthur couldn’t breathe as his gaze jumped back to the start of the email to read it again. Fuck, was this guy for real? He’d made no overt comment about blowjobs or body parts, and yet, Arthur had never been more turned on. His cock hurt where it had swelled and then got trapped in the crook of his thigh, and the back of his neck felt like it was on fire. Reading it through a third time only made both conditions worse.

Versatile. The guy would do whatever Arthur wanted. Fast or slow, Arthur on his knees or maybe just getting touched. Would he let Arthur fuck him? Probably, except Arthur didn’t really want that. He could find plenty of girls to satisfy that urge. Hell, Gwen had even let him fuck her ass a couple times.

No, his desires—when he dared to admit them—tended to be more complicated. 

Leaving the email, he went on to the next, but trashed it after the first sentence. The next few barely registered at all. He couldn’t shake the impressions left behind after Mr. I’m Not What You’re Looking For, and he gave up with an exasperated huff after twenty wasted minutes.

He’d been confident he didn’t want a gay guy. He wasn’t interested in a relationship. He didn’t want to have to worry about someone getting too attached. Hooking up with someone else who was curious had seemed ideal. They would be helping each other out. His good deed of the day, so to speak.

But what if he found someone who was clueless as he was? He still wouldn’t have the answers he needed to get on with his life, and he’d have to go through this whole embarrassing process again.

_I will know exactly what I’m doing._

Arthur opened a chat window before he could talk himself out of it. 

_Hey. You might be wrong. I think you could be the guy I’m looking for._


	3. Chapter 3

When he heard his laptop ping, Merlin rolled his eyes and continued spooning the sauce over his fried rice. Refusing to let Morgana read the email he’d sent in response to Arthur’s ad was beginning to feel like a stupid idea. She hadn’t stopped nagging him about what he said all afternoon, but he’d held onto the obviously ridiculous hope she would let it go once they went home for the day. To save his own sanity, he should just forward it to her and be done with it.

But deep in his heart, he knew he wouldn’t do it. He’d tolerate Morgana’s persistence until she found something else to bother him about, because under no circumstances did he want to share what he’d said. It had taken him close to an hour to get the email exactly how he wanted, nitpicking over every word choice, going back and forth on whether or not he should be upfront with his identity from the start, endlessly debating if he should sneak off to the loo and get a pic to include or play it coy.

In the end, he decided against both, partially to preserve his dignity, partially because he didn’t want Arthur to know he recognized him. If Arthur didn’t answer and he knew Merlin had written, it would forever be between them whenever they saw each other at the office. Merlin could be as discreet as he claimed, but what if Arthur didn’t believe him? A little bit of pressure, and he could get Merlin fired, no matter how big a tantrum Morgana threw. Merlin didn’t want that added pressure in what was already a delicate situation.

His laptop hadn’t pinged again by the time he crashed in the corner of the couch to eat and watch whatever mindless show he could find. With a frown, he glanced at where it sat on the coffee table. It wasn’t like Morgana to give up so easily. 

But when he saw the flashing message at the top of the tab for his private email, his heart skipped a beat. It hadn’t come from her. She always used his work address. Setting aside his food, he held his breath as he clicked the tab open.

_Hey. You might be wrong. I think you could be the guy I’m looking for._

“Holy shit,” he muttered. Arthur had done it. He’d actually done it. The name on the chat window wasn’t Arthur’s—Merlin didn’t know what styjit@gmail.com was supposed to mean—but the wording was too precise to come from anyone but the man who’d received Merlin’s response.

Now what?

He hadn’t thought this far ahead. Frankly, he’d never expected to hear from Arthur at all. But now that he had, what did he do?

_You answer him, you idiot._

He was spending far too much time with Morgana. His inner voice sounded exactly like her.

The time stamp on the message was ten minutes ago, but the sender was invisible, no way to tell for sure if he’d given up waiting for a reply. The keys clicked as the only sound in the room as Merlin typed.

_Still there?_

He drummed his fingertips against the table, his gaze glued to the chat window. What if he’d missed his chance? He’d never forgive himself. But if Arthur didn’t answer, then that would just be proof he wasn’t ready to answer his own questions, his opening salvo be damned. That would be a good thing, wouldn’t it?

No, not really. Because Merlin had the picture and possibilities to torment him for months to come. And if Arthur ever met someone he was serious about—

_Still here._

Merlin knocked his knuckles against the hard edge of his laptop in his haste to get back on the keyboard. _Thought I’d missed you._

_I’m nervous, not a flake._

He smiled. Arthur gave better chat than he did conversation.

_Good to hear._ Then, because he still had to pretend he didn’t know it was Arthur… _Am I supposed to call you Styjit, or would you prefer something else?_

_Ha, no, that’s just my email. How about we use initials for now? Until we see if we click._

_Sure. I’m M._

_Nice to meet you, M. I’m A. Have you ever done this before?_

The question made him pause. He’d told Arthur he was gay. He must mean the ad.

_Not really. Usually meet guys other ways. What made you decide to go for it?_ He wanted to hear Arthur’s reasoning beyond being tired of wondering. 

The response was slow to come. Merlin wasn’t even seeing the “is typing” message come through. Fuck, he’d taken the wrong approach.

_Never mind, forget I asked. You asked for discreet, and it’s none of my business._

_No, that’s okay. You just surprised me. You’re very good at that._

His breath came out in a long sigh. He debated for only a second before answering, _I’m very good at a lot of things._

_That’s what I’m counting on. Your email was hot._

Until that point, Merlin hadn’t been aroused. He was too anxious about this entire chat to think about sex. But now that Arthur had cracked that door, his flesh no longer cared about keeping it light. His throat locked up—it was a very good thing he was typing and not talking—and all the blood rushed from his head straight to his hardening cock. Bounding from the couch, he ran into the kitchen and grabbed a Coke from the fridge, gulping a third of it down before he made it back to his laptop.

He took a deep breath and focused.

_Your pic inspired me._

_Did you mean it?_

_Every word._ And more, but if he’d included those, he would’ve scared Arthur off for good. _Do you want to tell me what it is you’re curious about?_

_Can I ask you some questions first?_

_Whatever you need._

_When did you know you were gay?_

Merlin blinked. He’d expected requests for more physical details, like build and what his cock was like. Arthur had been adamant in his ad about keeping it casual, but an inquiry like that smacked of something more intimate.

He couldn’t blow it off, though. That would be an asshole move, especially since Arthur had questions.

_I think I’ve always known. I never thought of girls that way. Everyone I was ever attracted to was a guy. That doesn’t mean it was always easy, though. I didn’t go out on my first date until I was at uni._

The blinking cursor mocked him as he waited for Arthur to respond. Fuck, admitting that had been a mistake. He needed Arthur to want him, not think he was hooking up with a loser. But he couldn’t take it back without looking defensive.

_I hope it was worth waiting for._

Merlin let out a long breath of relief. Arthur wasn’t judging him for it. Score one for both of them. _The right thing always is._

_Yeah. That’s what I’m hoping. Why do you like guys?_

_Why do you?_

_Ha. Fair enough. I guess that was a rubbish question._

_Not so much rubbish as really hard to answer like this._

_In chat?_

_Without knowing what it is you really want. Why am I the guy you picked to chat to? Why did you find my email hot?_

His wait went long again, but he had expected it to. Someone who was curious had more questions than answers. He couldn’t give Arthur what he wanted unless Arthur knew it himself.

_Because I don’t know what I’m doing. All my life I’ve dated girls. I like them. I like sex with them._ A pause came in Arthur’s typing, stretching for another minute. Then… _It sounds ridiculous when I think about it._

_So don’t think about it. I’m not judging. You can’t say anything I haven’t heard or thought or said._

_I doubt that._

_Want me to guess?_

Arthur’s _God, yes_ was so fast, Merlin laughed.

_All right. Here’s what I think. You’ve lived a life of certain expectations. Of yourself, from others. You did all the things you thought were right, but in the back of your head, you realized it wasn’t enough. What I wrote to you…that was all about more expectations, except this time, you’re not the one who has to act. You can let me do whatever I want to you, whether it’s grabbing onto that fat cock of yours and sucking you for hours or eating out your ass so I can fuck you or pushing you to your knees and feeding you my cock. I think you thought it was hot because you don’t have to be responsible for all these feelings and desires you’ve had any more. You can let them out, and when you get off, you can walk away and lock all those feelings away again with the explanation that it wasn’t you, it was me._

Merlin sent the message before he could go back and edit himself, then quickly added, _How’d I do?_

_You got me hard as a rock._

His nostrils flared. _You weren’t hard before?_

_No. Too nervous. You’re wrong about one thing, though._

_What?_

_I’m not doing this to say something lame like “M made me gay.” I told you. I’m not a flake. If I wanted to keep on pretending, I would’ve kept things the way they were. But the rest of what you said…that was all spot on. I think about cocks. A lot._

Merlin’s throat was dry again, but no way was he leaving his keyboard to get another drink. _You wonder what it would be like to touch one that isn’t yours._

_Touch. Smell. Taste. I don’t suppose you’d send a pic of yours now since you didn’t put anything in your email, would you?_

Arthur was asking. Not telling him to do it. Asking. He really did want Merlin to take the lead on this. Would he be as willing to hand over control if he knew who he was talking to? Merlin didn’t know. But the one thing he was sure of was that Arthur had a submissive streak he probably didn’t even recognize, and the prospect of having that body to use however he wanted had Merlin practically throbbing.

Rather than responding, he stretched for his phone, his other hand going to his fly. He made short work of opening it, but as he cradled his hard-on in his palm, he made a quick decision and switched the camera to video.

He only recorded for ten seconds, being sure to stay silent the entire time. When he was done, he quickly sent it to his Dropbox so he could email it from the private account he used for Arthur’s ad. Just as he hit send, another message popped up in the chat window.

_Change your mind about this?_

Merlin tucked his cock back into his pants before typing a response. _Check your email._

His heart thudded in his throat as he waited. He could picture Arthur sitting at a desk in his underwear as he opened the file and played it. Would he like it? Which part would get to him the most? Merlin pulling his foreskin back to best show all eight and a half inches? Running his thumb around the slit so that the pre-come dripped down the head? Stroking it with their chat window up in the background?

Would he pull out his own cock and jerk off to it tonight?

A minute passed for Arthur to come back.

_You don’t do anything by half, do you?_

Merlin let out a sigh of relief. _Had to make it worth the wait._

_It was. I don’t think I could swallow you on the first try, though._

_Is that what you want? To be on your knees for me?_

The cursor blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Yes._

_Then this is how we’ll play this. We’re going to sign off for the night._

_What? No. I want to chat more._

_We will._ Merlin wanted to coax that submissive streak out, but to do that meant taking more charge. _Tomorrow. Tonight, you’re going to jerk yourself off thinking about me. Watch the vid as much as you want. Think about what you like in a blowjob. What to do with your tongue. How deep you like it to go. What kind of sounds someone makes when the person sucking you off obviously enjoys it. Make it last as long as you can. Then when you come, eat it. All of it. Suck it off your fingers, scoop it off your stomach, don’t let a single drop go to waste. Because when I get to fuck your mouth, you can rest assured I’m not pulling out until you’ve swallowed every last bit I feed you. Understand?_

Merlin sat back. Hell, he was hotter than he had ever been before, and he wasn’t the one getting seduced here. If this didn’t work for Arthur, maybe he wasn’t as curious as he’d thought he was.

_I’ll do it on one condition._

_What’s that?_

_You finish what you started on the vid._

Easiest answer he’d had all night. _I already planned to._


	4. Chapter 4

It was a compulsion, really, because logic played no part in Arthur’s decision—did it qualify as a decision if he refused himself the time to consider the ramifications of his choice?—and he certainly had other things he could do instead of wandering out of his bedroom half-dressed and logging onto his home laptop to check his Gmail. For instance, he could go into work early as he’d originally intended when he woke up two hours before his alarm, or he could call Leon to meet up for coffee and talk about the problems with Cenred, or hell, he could even give Morgana a ring and pull the family card to get out of his flat.

But…no. As soon as his trousers were on, without even bothering to do up his shirt, he opened the browser to check whether or not M had written again.

His heart skipped more than a single beat when he saw the message in the chat window.

_Did you do it?_

He couldn’t breathe. This. This was why he’d logged on. Four simple words that put the past twelve hours in blazing Technicolor and thrust him into the action once again like a player in his very own high-tech virtual reality game. He’d wanted the mysterious M to come back and put him on the spot to find out if he’d obeyed M’s orders. Maybe he couldn’t have admitted that to himself two minutes ago, but with his heart lodged in his throat and his skin kindling with new heat, he couldn’t ignore the truth any longer.

The chat window was active. M was online _now_. Was he an early riser, or had he been too tortured by the tease of their chat—like Arthur—to sleep, either?

Arthur preferred to hope for the latter. Settling in, he typed out his response before M disappeared.

_Yes. I had to, after the chat we had. Did you do as I asked?_

An answer came back almost right away. One of the knots in Arthur’s spine loosened in relief. He wasn’t the only one into this new…what was it, exactly? Too early to be a relationship, too intimate to be acquaintances. M had seen into corners of Arthur’s thoughts that nobody had ever been privy to before, but Arthur didn’t know enough about M to consider him a friend yet.

_Best orgasm I’ve had in months._

Arthur laughed. _You don’t have to feed my ego._

_It’s not your ego I was thinking about when I came last night._

And just like that, Arthur was back to that cliff’s edge of desire again. Were all gay guys this open? None of the girls he’d ever been with had been, that was for certain. Gwen hadn’t been a prude, by any means, but if he’d talked like this to her, she would’ve laughed in his face instead of jumping him.

Another message came up before he could get his brain to string enough words together for a coherent response.

_Did you follow my instructions to the letter?_

The way it was phrased, Arthur had to scroll back in case he was forgetting something. _Eventually._

_Get interrupted?_

_No. Just…had to work up to the tasting part._

_Why? Haven’t you ever tasted your own come before?_

How much to confess here? The reality embarrassed him. He’d never admit it to a mate without being well and thoroughly pissed, and even then, he was so afraid of being caught out in anything remotely gay, he probably couldn’t do it.

But M wasn’t his mate, and Arthur had exposed more of himself—literally and figuratively—to him than any other person in his whole life. The whole truth was the only way to go here.

_No. I was always too nervous to._

_Why?_

_Because that was one step closer to admitting I want it straight from the source. I wasn’t ready for it before. I am now._

_Because of a little chat?_

_That, and placing the ad._ He took a deep breath to work up the nerve to type in, _You’re a big part of that, too._

He wanted to meet M in person. He’d known that as soon as he watched the vid the first time. Part of him had been scared M was a troll of some sort, lying about his age or gender or intentions, and certainly that could still be possible, but Arthur’s gut said otherwise. He knew from the vid that M had long, slim hands—and even longer fingers—but there was nothing feminine about the way they curled around his cock or played with his foreskin. His hair was dark, too, evidenced by his closely trimmed bush and the faint hairs visible on his muscled forearms. Arthur had fantasized about those hands curling around the back of his skull and pulling his head closer and closer until his nose was buried in M’s balls. When he’d come for the second time last night, it had been at the thought of his mouth on M’s cock, of his throat filled to gagging, of his body locked in place because M refused to let him go. That was when he’d found the nerve to finally taste his own come, but all that managed to do was clinch the desire to have it be M’s, instead.

More than anything else right now, he needed to know if their chemistry online would carry over to the real world.

Before M could shoot him down, Arthur was typing again.

_I’m tired of pretending I don’t want this. All I’ve been able to think about since I read your email yesterday is you. I wanked twice last night to your vid, I woke up obscenely early because I had sex dreams and a hard-on courtesy of you, and I wanked again in the shower before getting on chat. After all that, I’m getting hard yet again because you keep finding ways to push every hot button I never knew I possessed, and we haven’t even met in person yet._

_So yes, you’re a big reason why I’m ready to take this to the next level now. As nervous as I am, I can admit that. The question is, is it just me that thinks we click here?_

With a huff, Arthur collapsed back into the settee. There. He’d done it. Until he’d sent the message, he hadn’t been sure he could. In every other aspect of his life, he didn’t shy away from a challenge. He confronted it full-on and dealt with the fallout if he didn’t succeed. But his curiosity had been the shadow in the corner he refused to acknowledge for years. Taking this step, actually telling another guy he thought they clicked sexually, was a milestone there was no way M could appreciate.

Arthur could, though. And did. It almost didn’t matter if M told him he was full of shit.

Well. Yes, it did. Because M was the one he wanted. But he’d cross that bridge if and when he had to.

M answered him in mere seconds.

_We definitely click._


	5. Chapter 5

_What the hell am I doing?_

Merlin stared at the chat window in rising panic, not seeing his response but instead Arthur’s very blunt, very personal confession that was both everything he’d ever dreamed about and the scariest revelation he could’ve imagined. He’d sent the first message not really expecting Arthur to see it until tonight, but the answering ping had sucked him back into the allure of their online flirting—hell, who was he kidding? They weren’t flirting. He was outright coming on to Arthur, and Arthur, in all his innocent, eager, adorably nervous excitement, was practically begging Merlin for more.

To answer his own question, then…he was giving Arthur exactly what he needed. Or thought he needed, anyway. And, as it turned out, Merlin needed it, too, at least until he tossed caution to the wind and made it next to impossible for them not to meet up in the very near future. Arthur was panting for it. He wouldn’t want to wait. In all fairness, Merlin had been panting for it for years, so the sooner he got a taste of Arthur the happier he—and his libido—would be.

Then the mystery of their identities would be gone. Arthur would realize he’d told someone in his very own company his most secret desires. As scared as he was, he’d never be comfortable with an employee having that kind of power over him. 

_I should never have listened to Morgana. I’m going to get fired over this, no matter what she says._ Because it was one thing for Arthur to harbor bisexual fantasies. It was something completely different letting the information that he had a submissive streak a mile wide get out to someone in his own company. Morgana hadn’t had all the facts when she’d made her promise. How could she? Merlin certainly wouldn’t have predicted it until Arthur answered his email.

A new message came through on the chat, pulling him from his dilemma.

_You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that. Well, see you type it, I mean. Speaking of, when can we take this offline?_

_Never_ , he wanted to say, but he didn’t really mean it. This was every fantasy come to fruition. 

For Merlin to have the best odds at success without losing his job, Arthur had to be so firmly on the hook that it wouldn’t matter who worked for who. He needed to be hard and hungry, willing to ignore his fears and trust that Merlin would be discreet. Because he would. He’d meant that.

Trust took time.

Emboldened, Merlin smiled as he resumed typing.

_Somebody’s impatient._

_The word you’re looking for is horny._

_What happened to me being in charge?_

That merited a slight pause, as Merlin had suspected it would. Arthur was so accustomed to being the one in control that he’d pressed for the lead without even thinking about it. His submissive tendencies would remain confined to the heat of the moment unless Merlin coaxed them into coming out while they were simply chatting, too.

_You still are,_ came the response. _Don’t you want to meet up?_

_Yes. More than anything. But on my terms. If that’s not acceptable, tell me now and I’ll never bother you again._

It was a risk, daring him to throw all in or lose it all, but if Arthur didn’t take it, it was just further proof that Merlin needed to get out of this relationship now. The tethers from Arthur’s secrets that bound them together weren’t so strong they couldn’t be broken. If all it took was a single dare—

_Your terms, then._

Merlin audibly exhaled. Arthur would be the end of him before they ever had the chance to see this through. He’d either wank himself to death or have a heart attack. Or have a heart attack while wanking himself. Considering how worked up he got over Arthur, the last was entirely possible.

_Waiting will be worth it._ One way or another.

_It feels like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this._

_So what’s another few days?_

_You’re right. I know that. It just feels like I already leapt the hardest hurdle so now I want something to show for it._

Typical Arthur. He expected every battle to have a spoils upon its completion. Merlin couldn’t even fault him for it, because Morgana was even worse. Uther had bred that into his children at every angle, though having Arthur eager for rewards whenever he fulfilled another of Merlin’s desires wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Besides, in many ways, admitting the truth about his sexuality _was_ the greatest obstacle in his path to contentment. It was a big deal for the son of Uther Pendragon to be less than his father’s ideal. 

_Someone’s greedy,_ Merlin teased.

_Never said I wasn’t._

_Would you like another video?_

_Of you? Fuck yes._

_I expect a trade._

_You want a vid of me jerking off?_

Arthur’s hesitation was obvious and well merited. A video could come back and haunt him if it fell into the wrong hands. Merlin would never let that happen, but Arthur had no way of knowing that. Not yet, anyway.

_Not exactly. I don’t need to see your face if you want this to remain anonymous until we meet in person._ He didn’t realize until after he’d hit Enter that he’d said “until.” Like it was a done deal and none of his fears and doubts mattered.

Maybe they didn’t. Maybe Arthur would surprise him.

_So what then?_

_Your mouth isn’t the only place for my cock._

How many times had he fantasized about Arthur’s ass? Too many to count. By anyone’s standard—let alone a gay man’s—it was spectacular, practically begging someone to bury his face between those buttocks and feast on Arthur’s hungry hole for hours. Before discovering Arthur’s fascination with cocks, Merlin would’ve settled for rimming him, but now, with flickers of how far he could push Arthur, he wanted it all. 

Arthur was taking too long to respond.

_Don’t tell me you’ve never played with your ass before, either,_ Merlin goaded.

_Is that what you want?_

He’d deftly avoided clarifying. No way was Merlin letting him off the hook so easily.

_I already told you what I want. You. All of you. Now tell me how far you’ve taken exploring before. How else am I going to know what you need?_

Hopefully, putting them on the same side, reminding Arthur that all of this was to satisfy his desires more than Merlin’s—which was a big fat lie but Arthur would never know that if Merlin could help it—would soften the harshness of such a direct order. But just in case…

_You’re pushing all my buttons, too, you know. We couldn’t click if you weren’t. Because you letting me show you how good it can be? Has me ready to throw caution to the wind and push for a meeting right now so neither one of us has to settle for our hand again. But if I do that, we’ll both be holding back. You, because you’re too excited to say no but too nervous to give in completely. Me, because I’ll be too worried about pushing you past your limits and scaring you off. So everything you tell me, no matter how embarrassing you might think it is, will make your first time better. I promise you that._

His phone chimed with an incoming text, distracting him for a brief moment. When he glanced back at the laptop, Arthur had already answered him.

_I don’t know how you do it._

That could mean any of a million things. _Do what?_

_Sell me something I didn’t know I wanted until you convince me otherwise. Is your day job in marketing?_

Merlin chuckled. _Not exactly._

_One of the reasons I asked for someone bi or curious in the ad was because thinking about all the experience I didn’t have was embarrassing. I don’t get that way once you start talking. It feels more…I dunno, maybe natural is the best word. Normal, maybe. Like it doesn’t matter what I tell you. You just get it._

His heart twisted. What he wouldn’t have given to hear those words from Arthur under any other circumstances. Did Arthur even hear the implications behind what he was saying? 

No, because for him this was just about sex, which was where Merlin needed to get his head if he hoped to come out of this emotionally unscathed.

If it wasn’t too late for that already.

Back to the matter at hand.

_So tell me how much exploring you’ve done._

_Not a lot. Mostly in the shower. Soap makes it feel better._

He couldn’t resist. _Not as good as a wet mouth._

_Fuck. Do you talk like this during sex, too?_

Not usually, but all of his usual rules were flying out the window as far as Arthur was concerned. _Depends on the partner. With you, probably yes._

_Definitely yes._

_Bossy and greedy. Hm. Is your day job in banking?_

_Lucky for you, it’s not._

_And why is that lucky for me?_

_Because I work hard to make my ass look this good. Sitting around all day at a desk would ruin that._

Merlin agreed, one hundred percent, but he had to play along as if he knew nothing about the perfection of Arthur’s ass. _I’ll have to take your word for it._

_Only until you see my video._

_Make sure you spread your legs for me. Show me everything I have to look forward to. I want to be able to picture every little detail when I’m thinking about eating you out later._

_Will you do it when we finally hook up?_

_It? If you can’t say the word, you can’t do it, A._

_Eat me out._

_That’ll just be the start of it._

_Good._

And with that one word, that single syllable where Arthur acquiesced to Merlin’s control and highlighted the depths of his own desires at the same time, Merlin made the decision. He’d hate himself forever for throwing away the opportunity to have Arthur for real, and if he lost his job in the process, so be it. Taking the risk would still be worth it.


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur was late.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal—he was second only to Uther in the company hierarchy, for bloody sake, so if he wanted to take his time getting into the office on a morning when he didn’t have anything scheduled, it was his prerogative—except it was. For a whole host of reasons.

One: He’d been up in plenty of time to make it in well before anyone else in the office even dreamed about showing up.

Two: His primary reason for dashing through the lobby after ten a.m. had nothing to do with work and everything to do with a video that would ruin him if it ever came to light. Of course, he hadn’t actually been able to complete a video that satisfied him, starting over a ridiculous number of times (seven) and then finally giving up to try again tonight (in hopes a certain M wouldn’t tell him to fuck off for taking so long to fulfill one simple request) so he didn’t even have a final result to justify his late arrival.

Three: Arthur was _never_ late.

Few people seemed to notice as he darted off the lift and veered sharply to the left to take a back way to his office. But as soon as his door came into sight, a familiar head at the desk outside it popped up, followed immediately by a spry leap to its owner’s feet, accompanied by a wordless arch of a single eyebrow.

Clenching his jaw, Arthur deliberately slowed his pace. “Good morning, George,” he said, fighting to keep his tone neutral.

“Good morning, sir,” George replied.

Inwardly, Arthur cringed. No matter how often he corrected George, he refused to stop calling him “sir.” Arthur hated it. The worst part was, he couldn’t fire George, either. George was the best personal assistant he’d ever hired. Arthur would be an idiot to get rid of him just because the man was determined to stick to old-fashioned protocols.

Arthur brushed past George’s desk without another glance. “Get me some coffee.” He wasn’t actually thirsty. He simply didn’t want to deal with any questions George might have about his tardiness. There was no way to make _I couldn't get a good angle on my ass_ sound in any professional.

Except George didn’t scuttle off as was his normal reaction when given an order. He followed Arthur into his office, hovering inside the door. “Is everything all right? Do you need me to make any arrangements?”

Arthur frowned as he dropped his case onto his desk. “What kind of arrangements? My schedule was clear today.”

“I meant…a doctor, perhaps?” For all his obsequiousness, genuine worry rang in George’s voice. “You seem…out of sorts.”

“I don’t need a doctor. I overslept. That’s all.” Arthur crossed mental fingers George wouldn’t see through his lie.

“Ah.” George visibly relaxed, which for George amounted to a single vertebrae relaxing in his stance. “Well. That would certainly explain it.”

As Arthur plugged in his laptop, he realized George still hadn’t left. “My coffee?” he prompted.

“Yes. I’ll get right on that, sir. But first, Ms. Pendragon requested I contact her when you arrived.”

“Did she say why?”

“No, but she rang from Conference Room D, so I checked to see who had it currently booked on the schedule. She appears to be meeting with Gaius, so it might be safe to presume it’s something to do with the new studies he recently concluded.”

Arthur had no idea what studies George was talking about, but he nodded as if he understood. “I’ll ring her myself. Just get that coffee, would you?”

With a murmured, “Of course, sir,” George finally backed out of his office, closing the door behind him. Arthur rolled his neck as he picked up the phone and punched in the code for Conference Room D.

It wasn’t Morgana who answered.

“George, how many times have I told you not to use Arthur’s phone?” Merlin said sharply. “You of all people know he doesn’t like people in his office when he’s not there.”

Arthur’s brows shot up. Merlin was exactly right. He hated having his personal space invaded, especially without his knowledge. But what was more curious than George having the nerve to enter Arthur’s office when Arthur was absent —and use his phone, apparently—was the fact that Merlin was so well attuned to Arthur’s preferences when he didn’t even work under him.

“Since I’m not George, he must have finally listened to you,” Arthur said. “Though I do appreciate the heads up about his previous behavior.”

“Oh!” Merlin’s voice squeaked, and he audibly cleared his throat. “Arthur, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you. Hang on. Let me get Morgana.”

“No, wait—” But before Arthur could get further details on George’s escapades, Merlin was gone, his voice muffled as he must have passed over the phone.

“What on earth did you say to Merlin?” Morgana demanded when she came on the line. “It’s hardly his fault if you’re having a bad morning.”

No, it was purely Arthur’s and his incessant need to please. If he could only settle for second-best, he would’ve sent the very first video he’d done of him fingering his ass for M’s viewing pleasure instead of deleting it and trying over and over again to make it look less awkward.

Having Morgana scold him without even a polite greeting didn’t help his sour mood.

“George said you were looking for me.” He wasn’t going to bother answering her questions. The faster he took care of whatever she wanted, the sooner he could get his day back on track. “What do you need?”

“It’s more of what I can do for you,” she said. “Gaius gave me the conversion data for those flats in Lewisham you were so mad on about. I think you might want to see these numbers.”

All thoughts of his personal life vanished. The Lewisham project was his baby, one he’d fought Uther tooth and nail for. Uther had wanted to have nothing to do with it, arguing it was beneath PenCorp’s status to bother with. Arthur had settled the issue by purchasing the properties with his personal funds rather than the company’s, removing the bulk of the financial risk from Uther’s complaints. Having them turn a profit would mitigate future risks he might want to undertake, as well as solidify his standing with his father.

“I’ll be right there.” 

Morgana stopped him before he could reach for his laptop again. “Actually, we’re done here, and I have to get ready for an early lunch. I’ll send Merlin up with the reports so he can go over the data with you.”

An echo of Arthur’s immediate protest came through the line in Merlin’s “Arthur already knows how to read conversion data.”

“Hang on,” Morgana said. Before Arthur could say anything, she put him on hold.

Arthur collapsed into his chair and rubbed at his eyes. Maybe it was a mistake coming in at all today. He had no desire to be social, and knowing Merlin, a five minute report would turn into twenty minutes of chatter, during which Arthur would have to pretend he was completely oblivious to the fact that his cock was hot-wired into the smell of Merlin’s aftershave. Then he’d be utterly useless the rest of the day because he’d never be able to stop thinking about M and the video he still needed to make.

Of course, that just might be the perfect time to try doing the video again. Lock himself in his private bathroom and jerk off while he played with his ass. He could use his come to paint his hole, then. Give M a preview of what it could look like if he shot all over—

“Arthur?” Morgana interrupted. “Merlin’s on his way.” Her voice sharpened. “Be nice.”

She hung up before he could argue any more. Arthur had barely logged into his laptop before George was buzzing him to announce Merlin’s arrival.

Rather than enter all the way, Merlin poked his head around the edge of the door to shoot a nervous smile in Arthur’s direction. “Ready?”

Arthur gestured for him to come in. “As I’ll ever be.”

Merlin was slow to obey, taking his time to approach Arthur’s desk after he shut the door. He casually carried a laptop at his side, his shirtsleeves rolled up nearly to his elbows. The shirt was a size too big on him, his jeans a tad too baggy. Merlin’s normal uniform of choice, though Arthur wouldn’t admit to anyone that he noticed Merlin enough to recognize the pattern. Sometimes, however, Arthur wondered why it was Merlin insisted on continuing to dress like he’d only just graduated from uni. He certainly made enough money to buy clothes that fit him properly. As it was, his usual ensemble heightened the illusion that he was some gawky twink when Arthur knew it was a lie. He’d seen him in the company gym enough to know there was a lean, hard body beneath the loose clothing.

A whiff of Merlin’s aftershave hit Arthur’s nose.

His mouth watered.

_Fuck. This was a bad idea._

“I’m sorry for this.” _Oops._ Merlin was speaking. “I know you don’t need me to explain the data, but Morgana’s convinced you’re going to miss something.”

Arthur snorted. “Good to hear Morgana still thinks so highly of me.”

Merlin’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, that’s not what I meant. She just thinks—”

“I know what she thinks. Subtlety has never been her strong suit.” He leaned back in his chair, hoping the added distance would lessen the scent emanating from Merlin’s skin, but all it did was make him feel like his crotch—and rising erection—was on display. He scowled. “Just go back to your desk and email it to me. I’ll take care of Morgana.”

Except Merlin didn’t budge from his spot. Just like George hadn't right away earlier. Why wasn’t anybody listening to Arthur today?

“What is it?” Arthur snapped.

Merlin fidgeted, his fingers running along the edge of the laptop he carried. “About what I said on the phone…” He glanced back at the door before refocusing his bright blue gaze on Arthur. “Did you talk to George about it yet?”

The faint drumming of Merlin’s fingers kept distracting him. “And when would I have found time to do that? You have the legs of a stork.” A well-muscled stork, no matter how baggy his shorts were when he was running on one of the treadmills.

Merlin ignored his snarky tone and edged closer. “It’s just that he means well. I wouldn’t want to see him punished just because I don’t know how to answer a phone.”

“You know, you’re right. You don’t know how to answer a phone.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” Arthur fought the urge to cross his leg and obscure the proof of his arousal. Merlin had a vantage now where he could see more easily over the desk and any movement on Arthur’s part would only draw attention to the one thing he wanted Merlin to ignore. He settled for reaching for his laptop, as if he was so bored with the conversation, checking his email was more interesting. “Don’t worry. George’s job is safe today. I know what an asset he is. No thanks to you.”

Merlin grinned as he finally backed off. “I guess it’s a good thing my day job isn’t in marketing then, huh? I’ll get this emailed to you as soon as I’m back at my desk. And if you have any questions—”

“I know where to find you,” Arthur finished.

But the second Merlin left his office, what Merlin had actually said sank in. Arthur bolted from his seat and took off after him, sweeping past George’s curious gaze to jog to the lift before Merlin disappeared.

Merlin’s smile came back as Arthur approached. “That was quick.” He dropped his hand from where he’d been about to push the down button. “Did you forget something?”

No, he’d remembered something, and now his heart hammered against his ribs, his pulse loud in his ears as he tried to find a reasonable explanation for chasing Merlin down.

_Is your day job in marketing?_

His gaze dropped to the laptop Merlin held. Long fingers curled protectively around the edge, while a faint trail of hair climbed up his forearm, darkening and thickening where it disappeared beneath his sleeve. In Arthur’s mind, the computer vanished, and in its place came a hard cock, its foreskin pulled back to expose its glistening tip.

The video had only been ten seconds long, but Arthur had watched it enough to know he’d recognize those hands anywhere.

M’s hands.

_Merlin’s._

Arthur couldn’t breathe. 

M and Merlin were one and the same.


End file.
